Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Eighty

Two Days Later…

I let out a long, tired sigh. I’ve been trying to read the same sentence for the last half hour. I can’t focus. I can’t do anything but think about my life’s situation and what it really means in the long run; potentially die from cancer, or never sing again and give up any chances I ever had at pursuing my dream. I’ve always wanted to sing. That’s the only reason I even came back to finish college. The only reason I’ve been busting my ass trying to work so I can pay off my tuition. The only reason I’ve been able to move on with life and keep it relatively together after my parents passed.

音乐 是 my life.

What exactly would I be saving if it meant I couldn’t have it anymore? I’d be a zombie; a walking, talking shell of the person I am now, and I’ve already lost too much as it is. I can’t give this up, too. I just won’t. Physical death would be easier than having to live a life of constant resentment, misery, and regret. I won’t do it.